


and I wrote down our song

by bilgegungoren00



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M, and jake is a sucker for taylor swift, based on taylor swift songs, because i'm a sucker for taylor swift, jake&amy drabbles, so why not?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-04 22:49:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12178029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bilgegungoren00/pseuds/bilgegungoren00
Summary: Jake&Amy drabbles based on Taylor Swift songs.





	1. he’s got everything (that I have to live without)

**Author's Note:**

> hey y'all!!!
> 
> soooo one thing that shows me how absolutely obsessed with a show (and a ship) i am is the fact that i start writing fanfictions about it. well, other than binge-watching it whenever i can find, but you get my point. and, well, as it's obvious...i am utterly, completely, irrevocably obsessed with brooklyn nine-nine and jake&amy right now, so much so that it's the first ever fanfic i've written for a fandom other than supergirl and karamel. yay...i guess? :)
> 
> but seriously, who wouldn't love jake and amy? am i right?
> 
> anyway, so, this is my first fanfic in the brooklyn nine-nine fandom, and i really hope you like it, because i'm loving this idea sooo much right now. as written in the summary, this will basically be a collection of jake&amy drabbles based on taylor swift songs, mostly unrelated with each other, unless something comes to my mind that i really like.
> 
> enjoy!
> 
> p.s. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE don't post any spoilers about brooklyn nine-nine post-season 3, i still haven't finished it completely (DAMN SCHOOL) and i really, really hate getting spoiled. okay? okay. cool. thanks in hindsight :))))))

_[He]'d better hold [her] tight, give [her] all [his] love  
_ _Look in those beautiful eyes and know [he]'s lucky cause_

_[She]'s the reason for the teardrops on my guitar_  
_The only thing that keeps me wishing on a wishing star_  
_[She]'s the song in the car_  
_I keep singing, don't know why I do_

-  **Teardrops On My Guitar** _by Taylor Swift_

Jake hated the bar.

No, actually. He didn’t really hate _the bar._ It had everything he could ask for: good music (with an occasional sprinkle of Taylor Swift that he thoroughly appreciated), a steady supply of alcohol, and friends that he could talk and have fun with after a tiring day at the precinct. He should love it, really. He loved it too…until a couple of days ago, when Teddy “I’m-the-Perfect-Cop” Wells became a regular at the 99th precinct’s nightly visits of the place.

Jake shouldn’t mind it; he knew that. He shouldn’t mind that Teddy was there. It wasn’t as if the guy was a bad person—on the contrary, he was really fun and easy-going, but most importantly he seemed to be making Amy laugh like no one ever managed to. Like… Like he never managed to. He’d been working with Amy Santiago for as long as he could remember—and a teeny tiny part of that was because he really didn’t want to remember the time he _didn’t_ work with her—yet she’d never smiled at him the way she smiled at Teddy. She’d never laughed at his ridiculous jokes the way she laughed at Teddy’s. And she’d never, _ever_ looked at him the way she looked at Teddy. Like Teddy was the only guy in the world. Like she cared about him. Like…

Like she loved him.

Jake wondered briefly whether they’d shared those words. _I love you._ It was a milestone in every relationship, along with first kiss, first sex, and meeting the parents for the first time; a milestone that said “this is not just a fling for me, this is serious and I want it to last”. And if Amy loved Teddy…

It didn’t matter. It _shouldn’t_ matter. But…it did. Because Jake had her picture placed on his bedside table—the only place in his house he kept tidy, not wanting to ruin that photo. Because he wanted to be around her all the time. Because _she_ was the only one he could think about when he closed his eyes at night. Because…he loved her. He was utterly and irrevocably in love with her, in the way that one could say he was looking at her the way she was looking at Teddy, and that was exactly why it mattered to him whether Amy loved Teddy or not. He knew he didn’t stand a chance with her—she was far off his league—but maybe if he knew she loved someone else, it would be easier to forget her.

(At least that was what he told himself, because the alternative—not being able to get over her—was far too frightening.)

So yes, he didn’t hate the bar. More like he hated watching Amy and Teddy stand by the bar counter, his arms around her, laughing at something as if they didn’t have a care in the world…while he sat at the far off corner of the bar, with a very ineffectual bottle of beer in his hand, watching them. He hated it, yet…what choice did he have?

He managed to tear his eyes away from Amy and instead look at the—now empty—beer bottle in his hand, contemplating whether he should go get a new bottle. He wanted it, God knew he wanted it badly, but Teddy and Amy were on his way. And making small talk with Teddy might be the last thing he wanted right now.

Yet he didn’t even have the chance to think about that before he heard the chair across from him being pulled. He looked up…and his heart stopped.

Amy. It was _Amy._

Great. Just great. Just what he needed.

He really, _really_ wanted that beer now.

“Hello, stranger,” Amy chirped with a smile on her face, one of her smiles that made his heart flutter in his chest like the wings of a damn butterfly. He could only watch her with wide eyes and parted lips—God, he hoped he didn’t look utterly ridiculous—as she crossed her arms over the table and leaned forward. “You look _overly cheerful_ for someone who just solved a major murder case.”

He could barely scoff and roll his eyes. “I’m cheerful. This is me being cheerful. See this face?” He pointed at himself, knowing that Amy would be able to see through his lie easily. She just knew him too damn well. “I’m happy.”

Gosh, he needed that drink right now.

Amy arched her brow at his words, disbelief written all over her face. “Really? Because all you’ve been doing all night was moping and drinking. That does not sound so cheerful to me.”

 _Well, I was cheerful,_ Jake wanted to say, _until Teddy showed up._ And then… Well, as Amy pointed out, then he’d resorted to moping and drinking.

But of course, Amy couldn’t know that. She couldn’t know just how much it hurt him to see her with Teddy. She was so kind and good-hearted that he knew—he just _knew—_ she’d feel guilty for hurting him, even though it was his own damn fault that he fell in love with her. And she deserved better than feeling guilty for being in a relationship that made her happy. She deserved to be happy.

And she definitely deserved someone better than him.

He forced a smile on his face that he hoped looked real. “Yeah, I…” His eyes briefly flickered to Teddy, and he straightened up. “I was just thinking…about…something. You know, some stuff. Like…you know what they say. I was in my own world.” His laugh sounded cringe-worthy even to his own ears. “But I’m back now. Jake Peralta is back!”

He realized he’d said it way too loudly only when Boyle and Rosa stopped their conversation and turned to him, confusion written all over their faces. But Amy… Amy just laughed. He could see in her eyes that she didn’t fully believe him, yet still she laughed at his ridiculousness probably, her rich brown eyes shining with joy. He smiled back at her—not because he particularly wanted to, but because that was what she’d want. If she wanted to see him happy, to see him smile and pretend like nothing was wrong, then he’d do it. For her sake…he’d do anything.

“Well, okay then, Detective Peralta,” she said with a low chuckle. Jake found himself watching her, the curve of her lips, the blush on her cheeks, the way her hair fell over her shoulders… She was so beautiful. Almost too beautiful, one could say.

Yet he ignored that, because…what choice did he have?

“Since you’re _back_ … Why don’t you join us? You seem like you need a new bottle of beer.” She arched her brow, as if challenging him to reject her offer. No…not challenging exactly. She wanted to see whether he’d say no, because she knew that would be a definite indication that something was wrong. She probably wouldn’t let it go until she knew what that was either. He had no choice. He had to join her, and her boyfriend _Teddy_ , no matter how much he didn’t want to.

He swallowed back the bile that was rising to his throat and put a smile on his face—with a couple of seconds of trying, he managed to make it look real. It would never feel real, but as long as Amy thought it was…it didn’t matter.

“I really can use another bottle of beer.”

There was no way he could miss the way Amy’s shoulders relaxed. “Good,” she said with a smile; a smile that wasn’t burdened with any worry. She stood up before he could say anything else. “Let’s go then.” And then she was walking back to the group, giving him no choice but to follow her. He ignored the sick feeling in his stomach as he joined the group, trying not to watch how she just slipped back into Teddy’s embrace, as if she belonged there. Instead he focused on keeping his smile on his face, laughing when it was appropriate, blurting out a couple of Peralta-style jokes, and avoiding looking at Amy and Teddy at any circumstance.

Still, inside, the only thing he could feel was a huge hole where his heart was supposed to be.


	2. you showed me what living is for

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It might not be the best time for a marriage proposal, but when you're sure about it, then there is no wrong time for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .....just how long a drabble can get before turning into a one-shot?
> 
> but anyway, i hope you like this :))))

_I watched from a distance as you made life your own_  
_Every sky was your own kind of blue_  
_And I wanted to know how that would feel_  
_And you made it so real_  
_You showed me something that I couldn't see_  
_You opened my eyes and you made me believe._

-  **Crazier** _by Taylor Swift_

* * *

Amy had a terrible day.

Okay, _technically_ it wasn’t that bad. Like, it probably wouldn’t make it to her top ten horrible days list. But going without having an especially bad day for some time…a bad day tended to stand out. Not only she got an exceptionally complex murder case just that morning, she also had to deal with an overly grieving widow. The poor woman was crying so much that it took her about two hours to get a proper statement from her, and another hour to try and coax her into telling whether she could think of any reason her husband could be murdered.

She’d given up when the woman’s answer was the classic “nobody would ever want to hurt my husband”. But believe it or not…it got worse afterwards, when she took the woman to see her husband’s body one last time to say goodbye. She’d refused to believe that it was her husband, pointing out every inconsistency on the body to support her claim, even though both the DNA test and the fingerprints confirmed the man’s identity.

She could’ve kissed Charles when the man offered to stay with the widow while she had a silent moment to herself. Not that she _would,_ but if he asked for it… There was a chance she’d been too grateful to say no. She’d spent the rest of the day in her happy place—doing some overdue paperwork (most of them Jake’s, since hers were almost up-to-date while there was a mountain of unfinished paperwork on his desk).

She didn’t know why the widow’s reaction had affected her as much as it did. It wasn’t like it was the first time she dealt with grieving families. God only knew how many murder cases passed her hand, and each time she managed to handle them professionally, no matter how many tears were involved. But this time…something felt different. This time, when she looked at the widow…she couldn’t help seeing her reflection. She couldn’t help imagining how _she_ might react if it was Jake that died and she was the one that lost him. Police work was dangerous at the end; any case would be your last case and you wouldn’t even know that until it happened, until you got a bullet in your chest, or your head was bashed with a baseball bat, or you got involved in an especially nasty car accident on your way to a crime scene. And you couldn’t know, when you waved goodbye to your partner, whether it was the last time you saw them or not, whether they would get shot or not after walking out that door.

It could’ve easily been Jake that bled out on the ground from a bullet wound. It could’ve easily been her that was crying after him, trying to come up with ways that he could be alive, refusing to believe she would never see him again.

Even the thought of that was a hard pill to swallow.

Still, that didn’t change the fact that she didn’t know why she was thinking all that right now. She and Jake had been dating for about five years now, and she’d dealt with a lot of people that lost their partners during that time. Yet never once she imagined herself in their place, never once she thought what could happen to her if Jake was gone. But…it seemed like something had changed since the last time that happened—a couple of months ago, if she remembered correctly. Something had changed in her relationship with Jake. She didn’t think of him as just her boyfriend anymore, she couldn’t think of their relationship as temporary. She saw him as her lifelong partner, as the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, as her…her possible _husband_. It was the first time ever she felt like that for anyone, and it would be a really shame if the “rest of their lives” part was cut short by his death.

She wanted to be with him. Forever. She wanted to… She wanted to _marry him._

There. She said it—well, okay, she _thought_ about it. She wanted to marry Jake Peralta, her dorky partner, sometimes immature and irresponsible, but overall an amazing and caring guy who was always there for her when she needed him. She’d never felt more happy and loved than when she was with him. She didn’t want to lose that. She wanted that to last forever; she was sure of that. So sure that…she felt 100% ready to make that commitment with him. She felt _completely ready_ to marry him.

Which was…scary, as today had very clearly proved he could be taken from her any moment. But that didn’t scare her off from marrying, not really. Instead, now she didn’t want to wait anymore. She didn’t want to lose any time before—

“Amy Santiagooooo?”

She jumped on the car seat with Jake’s voice. She hadn’t even realized she’d been lost in thoughts as she watched the city from the window absentmindedly.

She truly hoped that her face didn’t look as red as it felt when she turned to him. Okay, _maybe_ the marriage thing could wait just a little bit.

“Hm?” Jake glanced at her with a worried frown.

“…Are you okay? I’ve called for you for, like, five times now.” _Damn._ Had she been lost in thoughts for _that long?_ “I’ve even said ‘baby’, so if I’m gonna be honest, it was really hurtful that you didn’t respond.” He flashed her a joking grin, and despite herself the corners of Amy’s lips kicked up too. Still, it was a small smile by her standards, even as Jake ducked his chin to get a better look at her face. “What happened?”

“I was just thinking…” She contemplated whether she should talk about the case, but eventually decided otherwise. Jake had said he was taking her somewhere special today—the fact that he hadn’t spilled the beans no matter how much she begged him to showed just how important it was to him—and she didn’t want to spoil the mood with her ridiculous worries. She shook her head. “You know what, never mind. Nothing happened. I’m just…tired.”

“’Nothing happened, I’m just tired’, the title of your sex tape.” Now _that_ earned Jake a glare from Amy. “Okay, that was…lame. Sorry,” he apologized…and it would mean a lot more if he didn’t have a damn smirk on his face, one of those smirks that made her stomach coil inside her. Gosh it was really hard to get angry with him when he was smiling like that.

She slipped away from those thoughts when he dropped one of his hands over hers, lacing their fingers together. “But seriously, you know you can tell me anything, right? If anything’s wrong…”

“It’s fine,” Amy blurted out immediately, scared that she might say the wrong words or _God forbid_ propose to him if she didn’t stop him from talking. “I’m fine. It’s just…” She hoped her blush wasn’t too visible. “I was just…” She almost wanted to bury her face into her hands. She was a detective, damn it. It shouldn’t have been _this hard_ for her to find an excuse.

…or maybe she didn’t want to come up with an excuse. As she stared at Jake… She just wanted to say, _screw excuses._ She wanted to marry him. Yes, it might be untimely, and totally unplanned, but that didn’t change what she thought. Besides… She and Jake had always been the impulsive kind of couple anyway. Their first kiss had been while they were undercover. An unplanned marriage proposal didn’t seem too out of the realm of possibilities for them.

She could almost feel air getting hitched in her throat as she lifted her head to look at Jake. Her heart was slamming against her ribs—with fear or with excitement, she didn’t know. It didn’t matter anyway. She’d made up her mind. She was going to do it. She wasn’t backing down. Nope. Not now.

“No, you know what? Screw being fine.” She took a deep breath and bit down on her lip as Jake shot her a confused glare. _Here goes nothing._ “Marry me.”

Amy was glad that they’d stopped at a red light, or else she was sure that Jake would cause a car accident from the way he turned to look at her. She could see just how wide his eyes were.

_“What?”_

“Marry me,” she repeated, her voice trembling slightly. He blinked once, twice, staying silent, so much so that Amy felt the need to explain. “Look, I know… I know it’s a bit impulsive and…and unplanned, but… I want this, Jake. I want to marry you. I just… I just spent my day with a woman who lost her husband, and it made me realize…how short life can be. Especially in our line of business. And if that day ever comes that one of us has to say goodbye to the other…” She inhaled shakily even at the thought of that. “I don’t want us to have missed anything. I don’t want to have regrets, or wish we could’ve done this or that. And…marriage is a first step in that, right?” She glanced at Jake through her lashes hopefully. “So… Will you—Will you marry me?”

Jake didn’t say anything for a while, just staring at her, so much so that he didn’t even realize that the light had turned green until someone honked behind them. Even when he started driving again, though, moving the car to the side of the road—she noticed that his hands were shaking too much for him to drive properly—he didn’t say anything. Amy felt a knot lodging in her throat.

Oh no. This was a bad sign, wasn’t it? She so shouldn’t have proposed to him. This wasn’t the right time. _Of course_ this wasn’t the right time.

“…Jake?” she said tentatively as Jake stopped the car. It seemed like that finally triggered him out of his stupor. He whirled around to face her.

“No!” He almost yelled out the word, so much so that Amy couldn’t help wincing. But it wasn’t just the loudness that hit her hard. It was what he said.

He’d said no. _Of course. Stupid Amy, stupid Amy, stupid Amy._

“Oh, okay,” she managed to whisper, clearing her throat. _This is so embarrassing._ More than that, though, it… _hurt._ It hurt to know that Jake wasn’t ready to commit to her fully when she’d given all of herself to him. “I understand. It was stupid anyway. You don’t—“

“No,” Jake interrupted her before she could get far. “I mean, not no. I didn’t mean to say no to the proposal. I’m not saying no.” Amy’s heart skipped a beat, even though she felt more confused than ever as she watched Jake pinch his nose. “I’m making a mess out of this, aren’t I?”

“…kinda?” That was all she could come up with. Jake sighed and dropped his hands on his lap.

“I just… I was going to propose to you tonight!” He sounded desperate as he ran his fingers through his hair. Amy was sure that he was pulling at the strands—

Wait. _Wait a minute._ Did Jake just say that he…that he would…

“…you were going to propose?” Her voice was thin but full of newfound hope. Jake spread his arms exasperatedly at that, turning to her.

“Yes! I’d spent the whole week preparing for it! I got us a reservation from a stupid elegant restaurant Charles suggested, I arranged a carriage ride, I even bought candles and rose petals and all that romantic stuff. And I spent _two full months_ looking for a proper ring, and now…and now you have ruined it.” He narrowed his eyes at her. At any other time Amy might’ve apologized at that, but now…now she was just smiling, feeling her heart flutter in her chest like the wings of a butterfly. She’d gotten it wrong. Oh, she’d gotten it so wrong. Jake… He didn’t say no because he didn’t want to marry her. He wanted it. He was just…bummed that she beat him to it, or that he thought all his preparations was for nothing. But…it wasn’t for nothing. It meant everything to Amy that he spent this much time and thought on proposing to her. It showed that he cared, and he…he wanted this. If he was taking her to a “stupid, elegant restaurant”, which he thought was super unnecessary… It meant he really wanted this to be special.

And…she kind of did ruin it. Or, one could say, she spared him from worrying about whether she’d say yes or not, right? It depended on your point of view.

“Why are you smiling?” Jake said, taking her out of her thoughts. “You shouldn’t be smiling right now. It’s not fair that you’re smiling—“

“Jake,” she stopped him, reaching for his hand and lacing their fingers together. “I’m smiling because what you did means the world to me. Because I’m _happy_.” God she was more than happy. She felt like she was flying in the sky, the breeze running through her hair, adrenaline rushing through her veins and pushing her forward and upward. She felt free. She felt _alive_.

“You’re happy?” Jake asked, his voice as vulnerable as a little kid’s. Amy couldn’t help laughing. She leaned forward as she cupped his cheek, pressing a small kiss on his lips as an answer. She arched her brow.

“Does that answer your question?” Jake just smiled, yet it was all he needed to do for Amy to know he was feeling the same way. “And…” she continued, dropping her hand on his knee and rubbing it. “I know the proposal is kind of…not-so-secret right now,”—the exasperated look Jake shot her at that showed just how much of an underestimation her words were—“but that doesn’t mean we can’t still go through with the date, right? I promise I’ll pretend to be surprised when you get down on one knee, and string together a bunch of squeal-y yesses.”

A laugh burst out of Jake’s mouth. “That would be…so ridiculous.” Amy just shrugged.

“It wouldn’t be the first ridiculous thing we’ve done. Right?” Jake nodded as an answer, a loving grin on his face. He started the car once again.

“Right… Let’s do it then.”

(And Amy had to admit that when Jake, as promised, took out the ring and went down on one knee in front of her, she felt as excited as if she’d never known about the proposal. At any other case she might’ve blamed it on her ridiculousness, but now… She knew it was because of Jake. Because, surprise or no surprise, planned or unplanned, the proposal meant she would be spending the rest of her life with this amazing man, and _that_ was something she would get excited about no matter what.)


	3. when we go crashing down (we come back every time)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It had to be enough.

_I should just tell you to leave 'cause I_  
_Know exactly where it leads but I_  
_Watch it go round and round each time_

\- **Style** _by Taylor Swift_

* * *

_It means nothing._ Jake repeated those words to himself like a mantra as he waited for the elevator. _It means nothing._ He was holding onto those words—in fact, he’d been holding onto those words from the moment he threw his leather jacket over his shoulders and grabbed his keys. He’d been holding onto them since he got into his car and started driving. He’d been holding onto them, as he entered the utterly familiar apartment, walking up to…Amy’s door.

_It means nothing._ It meant nothing. He had to believe that. It wasn’t as if this was the first time they’d be doing…something like this. It wasn’t even the second time, or the third. This had been going on for a couple of months now; Amy and him toying the line between colleagues and partners, friends and…and something more. Not a relationship, definitely not, and he _hated_ the term “friends with benefits”, but…other than that, he honestly didn’t know how to describe what this was. Friends who just had sex when they needed to blow off some steam?

Wasn’t that just the definition of being _friends with benefits_ anyway?

But… Jake didn’t want to be friends with benefits…with Amy. Not that he was against the idea of that. If both parties agreed to the classic “no strings attached” policy…then by all means, they could do whatever they wanted. It was fine. It had been like that with him and Amy in the beginning too, when she was just his colleague and friend, when her face didn’t come to his mind whenever he closed his eyes, when this…thing between them was nothing serious. But now…

Now he wanted more.

He wanted more than just sex with Amy. He wanted to take her out on dates. He wanted to cuddle with her on the couch and watch movies. He wanted to tell her about his worries, and he wanted to be the one she came to when she needed someone. He wanted… He wanted to _date_ her. He wanted a _relationship_ with her.

Which made this…this agreement—deal? Contract? He didn’t even know at this point—all the more awkward for him. He knew the best thing, for both of them, would be to end it, would be to say no to Amy if she texted him or not text her when _he_ needed her, but… He couldn’t. This was… This was the only way for him to be close to her. She’d never love him, not in that way. He knew she deserved way better than him. And if he let her go now… He’d never have the chance to be with her again.

He wasn’t ready for that. Now that he knew what it was like to be _with her_ … He wasn’t ready to let her go.

He took a deep breath, feeling his heart slamming against his ribs as he lifted his hand and knocked on the door. He hoped that tucking his hands in his pockets would keep Amy from seeing just how…how nervous he was.

_It means nothing._ The words felt empty at that point, especially when Amy opened the door and his breath got caught in his throat. She had a sweater and pajama shorts on, her hair was pulled into a messy bun, and she hadn’t done any makeup, yet still…she looked beautiful. She was the most beautiful thing he’d seen.

His throat was so dry that he couldn’t find anything to say. Not that… Not that anything needed to be said. He could see the intensity and passion in Amy’s eyes, which meant she knew why he texted her and asked to come here, she knew what he needed.

…or she assumed to know, because… He didn’t think she had any idea about him wanting more than sex. Wanting to… _be with her_.

He pushed those thoughts out of his mind as he watched her step back, and entered the house. _It means nothing. It means nothing._

And yet, as scary as it was, it meant… _everything_ to him.

He wanted to say that. As Amy closed the door behind him, as she turned around to face him, as she toyed with the ends of her sweater and stepped forward… He wanted to tell her he liked her. He wanted to tell her he wanted more than just sex.

_I want to stay with you._ He could say it too. _I want to be with you._

But then he was kissing her, and he had to push all those thoughts away, deep down into his mind. It would change everything if he said those words. And a part of him couldn’t shake the feeling that…it would be for the worse.

This… This had to be enough for him.

(Even though it wasn’t. Not even close.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.s. If y'all have any requests for a specific Taylor Swift song, please let me know in the comments. Right now, I'm basically choosing them by randomly shuffling my Taylor Swift playlist on Spotify and picking the first song that comes up, butttttt I think it might be nice if you requested some songs too. Just an idea. You know.
> 
> Love you :)


	4. what you’re looking for (has been here the whole time)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5 times Amy couldn't tell Jake that she loved him, and 1 time she could

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .......i really should reconsider naming this story "Jake &Amy drabbles" considering just how long this one shot became.......

_Oh, I remember you driving to my house_  
_In the middle of the night._  
 _I'm the one who makes you laugh_  
 _When you know you're 'bout to cry._  
 _I know your favorite songs,_  
 _And you tell me about your dreams._  
 _Think I know where you belong,_  
 _Think I know it's with me._

-  **You Belong With Me** _by Taylor Swift_

* * *

**i.**

It had happened too quickly, too unexpectedly. Maybe that was why she couldn’t speak; maybe that was why she couldn’t utter out a word; maybe that was why she could only watch him leave with her tongue tied.

They’d been at the bar, with the whole Nine-Nine squad, when it happened. They’d just closed a major murder case, the kind that deserved a night off and a celebration. There were drinks, and laughs, and despite not drinking much—she didn’t want to spoil everything by getting drunk—Amy felt warm and lightheaded as she sipped her non-alcoholic beer (which everyone knew wasn’t _exactly_ non-alcoholic as they claimed) and watched her friends do shots after shots with a grin on her face. She was just listening to Charles challenging Rosa to try a cocktail with a weird ass name when her eyes caught someone familiar. Someone who was an integral part of their squad, who should’ve been in the middle of the action and grabbing that cocktail from Charles’s hand, who should’ve had the biggest smile and loudest laugh in the room.

And yet he was sitting at a booth all by himself, a half empty glass in his hand, watching the liquid swirl inside. Jake Peralta, the goofiest of them all, was sitting alone and moping. A frown pulled Amy’s brows. If it had been anyone else—say, if it was Holt or Terry or even Gina—it wouldn’t have bothered her much; she would’ve assumed that they must’ve been busy or in their own world or something. But Jake… Jake was different. He lived in the present, enjoying every bit of life, and it wasn’t like him to sit and contemplate on what seemed like the meaning of life.

Maybe that was what alerted Amy. Maybe that was why she slipped away from the squad and made her way to his table. Or maybe…it was because Jake was special to her. He was more than just her colleague or friend, and a part of her she tended to ignore couldn’t help thinking that he might be something more. She didn’t like seeing him sad.

So she didn’t let herself hesitate before she plopped on the seat across from him, slamming her beer bottle on the table. She was glad that she opted for something non-alcoholic—she didn’t think any of the drunk Amy’s could be of help to Jake right now.

“Well, you seem _awfully_ cheerful,” she quipped as she crossed her arms on the table. Jake lifted his head slowly, as if he just realized someone actually sat across from him…and came to a complete stop. She could see that his eyes were wide with surprise. “You know, for someone who just cracked a major murder case.” She arched her brow, challenging Jake, and he…

He just opened his mouth and closed it, as if he didn’t know what to say. The words finally left his mouth like a baby’s shriek. “Amy! What are you… What are you doing here?”

Okay, that was confusing. She’d seen Jake struggling with his words once, maybe twice. Normally, he was so talkative that even when there was nothing to talk about, he found something to talk about. But now…

“I just realized that you were sitting here, all by yourself, and wanted to check up on you. ‘Cause Rosa and Charles were just making a bet on some weird cocktail, and I doubt you’d want to miss that.” She grinned, glancing over her shoulder to look at her friends—it seemed like Rosa _did_ take the challenge, since there was a slime-green colored liquid in her hand—before returning her eyes to Jake. She assumed he’d be smiling—he always did like Charles’s food challenges—but he was just…slumping forward? Looking at his drink? With no smile on his face?

Okay, something was wrong. Something was really wrong.

“Yeah, I’m just… I’m just tired, you know? It has been a hard day, and—“

“Jake,” she stopped him before he could get far and leaned forward. He looked up only briefly before turning away again. “Something is wrong,” she stated. “What’s wrong?”

The fact that Jake didn’t argue told her that she was right. Worry clawed at her heart at seeing her friend— _and maybe something more,_ a voice in her head whispered, a voice she utterly ignored—so down. Especially when he didn’t say anything for a while. She reached forward to take his hand in hers. “You can talk to me. I will keep it a secret if you want, but… If it’s something that I can help you deal with…”

Jake had to force the words out as he stared at her hand on his. “I don’t think…I can deal with it right now or…whatever.” He shook his head and pushed his drink away. “It’s not…” She waited for him to finish his sentence, but his voice trailed off. He looked up at her, and she felt air getting caught in her throat. There were… There were so many emotions swirling around in them that there was no way to tell them apart from one another. That was when she understood why he stopped: because it wasn’t not important. It wasn’t nothing.

She was just about to try and coerce him to spill the beans when he opened his mouth and beat her to it.

“I like you.”

Her stomach dropped with those words. _What?_

“What?” She wanted to laugh, she _tried_ laughing, but it only came out as a forced choke. She expected Jake to back down, to correct himself, but…no. He still continued to stare at her in that intense way of his.

“I like you,” he repeated, his voice starting to shake a bit from the weight of the confession. “Like, _like you_ …like you. Like…in a romantic way.”

In a romantic way. That was what he said. In a romantic way. He liked her… He liked her _romantically._ She was dating Teddy, and he was telling her that he liked her _romantically._

Oh God…

“And I’m not… I’m not telling you this because I’m trying to change your mind. I know you’re with…with Teddy, and you’re happy with Teddy, and that’s…that’s okay. That’s fine. You should be happy.” At this point it seemed like he was ranting, trying to get everything out of his chest. “You deserve to be happy. I just… I just wanted you to know that…because I want you to know just how amazing and special you are.”

_Oh, Jake…_ That was all Amy could think about. Yet she couldn’t even voice them. There were so many things she wanted to tell him, there were so many things that _he_ should know too, but the words didn’t leave her mouth. Because there was Teddy. Because she was happy with Teddy. Because it wouldn’t be fair to either of them if she dumped Teddy for Jake. Besides… She loved Teddy, right? He was…an amazing guy. He was organized, he was kind, he was understanding, he was…everything someone could look for in a guy. She loved him. She loved him.

Yet, as she stared at Jake… She couldn’t help thinking that that “him” didn’t belong to Teddy at all.

“I’m just… I’m just gonna go. I’ll just…yeah.” He stood up so abruptly that she felt dizzy. “Good night…Amy.”

And that was the last thing he said before he left. She watched him leave, tears prickling her eyes, unsaid words lingering on her tongue like poison—the kind that wrenched your gut and squeezed your chest, making it hard for you to breathe.

_Don’t go,_ she’d wanted to say. _Jake, I like you too. I love you too._

But she was too late.

* * *

**ii.**

Amy knew she didn’t have the right to feel sad.

Really, she didn’t. This wasn’t self-pitying or something like that. After everything that happened… She shouldn’t be feeling down that Jake had a girlfriend. After not coming clean about her feelings for him for months, even after breaking up with Teddy… She didn’t have the right to feel devastated or betrayed, as if Jake had done something wrong.

He’d just moved on from her. What was so bad about that?

But…it was bad. It _felt_ horrible to see Jake with someone else, to know that he’d long forgotten about her, to realize she _could’ve_ been with him, she could’ve been the one he was dating if she could’ve just _gotten her head out of her ass and told him about her still lingering feelings._

She loved him. She _loved,_ loved him. How could she have thought that the feeling would dissipate? How could she let her idiotic fears get in the way of something she really wanted?

And now, because of that, all she could do was watch, from afar, Jake being all happy and smiley with _Sophia_ , wallowing in her own sadness.

At least she could now relate to how Jake must’ve felt when she started dating Teddy.

She should’ve known. She should’ve known that Teddy wasn’t the right guy for her the moment Jake confessed his feelings. What she felt that day… She hadn’t felt anything that intense when she was with Teddy. Yet… She’d been going out with Teddy for too long to just accept there was nothing between them. It wasn’t fair for him. It wasn’t fair for _them_ to not even give a chance to their relationship.

But at the end, it hadn’t been fair that she dragged him on knowing it wasn’t going anywhere. She should’ve just broken up with Teddy. The moment she realized she didn’t love him—the moment she realized she loved _Jake—_ she should’ve ended things.

Those thoughts were milling around in her head as she blankly stared at the file in front of her—and for her to stare at an unfinished file instead of doing it was a clear indication that something was wrong—when she was interrupted by someone hitting her ponytail and making it swing behind her head. She jumped and looked up…

Only to come face to face with a grinning Jake. Her heart jumped in her chest.

_Dammit, Jake, you’re not making this easier for me! You shouldn’t be smiling like that!_

“Jake!” She pulled on her ponytail to straighten her up. It was an effort to scowl at him and pretend like butterflies weren’t storming around in her stomach. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Checking up on you,” he said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Amy felt something jump in her chest. _Seriously, Amy, calm down. That doesn’t mean anything._ “You were staring at that unfinished file for way too long, and that was too un-Amy-like to not warrant worry.” He ducked his chin to get a careful look on her face. “Soooo… You okay?”

Oh God, was she being really that obvious? And she’d been trying to hide it too. She’d been keeping her mouth shut, she’d been focusing on her work, and she’d been avoiding Jake to not get awkward around him.

Could that be the problem? Because this wasn’t the first time Jake asked her if she was okay. Could he have caught the scent of her discomfort?

_Oh, God, please no._ That would be wayyyy too embarrassing.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m okay. I’m totally okay.” She cleared her throat and straightened up the files—as if they could be _straighter_. “I’m completely…okay.”

She hoped that saying it enough times would make her believe them. But it was obvious that Jake didn’t. He arched his brow and dropped his arms to his sides.

“Oookay, that did not sound fine to me at all.” He didn’t even hesitate before he pulled his chair and sat next to her desk. God, he was so kind-hearted. _Too_ kind-hearted almost. He was like…like those guys that she always read about in cheesy romance books, who bought flowers, held your hair when you vomited, never missed any anniversary, wrapped you in his embrace when you cried and hoarded a cache of ice cream for those situations, and just…just reminded you how amazing and beautiful you were every single day and how much he loved you.

The last part was mostly her imagination though. She’d never been on the receiving end of those words from Jake. But the other things… She knew he did them. And that made Sophia the luckiest girl in the whole world. Jake was too good to be real, but he was.

“So why don’t you give me those files,”—he took the files from her hand and put it aside—“and tell me what really is going on. Because you’ve been all mopey for about three weeks now, and I really don’t like working across a cry-baby.”

She scowled at him with those words, completely ignoring the way he was grinning at her, and crossed her arms on her table.

“It’s nothing,” she said, pushing back a strand of her hair that had escaped her ponytail. “I’m fine.”

“See, I don’t believe you.” That earned another glare from Amy. “I’m a good detective, and I know you, and all of my detective-slash-friend instincts are telling me that you’re not fine.”

“Jake… You’re making a big deal out of this.”

“Yeah, let’s agree to disagree on that.”

“I’m telling the _truth.”_

“And I don’t believe you.”

“Jake…”

“Amy…” He leaned forward, putting his elbow on her desk. His shoulder had brushed hers briefly with his movement; she couldn’t even come up with a retort as her thoughts scattered away. “You can’t fool me.”

Yeah, she was starting to believe that, but what strike her the most was… She wanted to tell him. She wanted to tell him that she loved him. She wanted to tell him that he was the most amazing guy she’d met in her life. She wanted to tell him he had this…this smile that could light up a whole town, that his eyes were always shining with a contagious joy, that she wanted to spend every second of every minute of every hour by his side. But she didn’t need to be that wordy. She could just say she loved him too. _I love you._ Wasn’t that just the definition of what she described?

She could say it too; it was easy. It should’ve been easy. Just three words. _I love you._ Yet…as he looked at her intently, waiting for her to open her mouth and say something…the words just stuck in her throat right behind that knot lodged there, and she couldn’t get them out.

Besides, before she could even finish the debate about whether she should say anything or not, Jake’s phone buzzed in his pocket, interrupting their conversation. She couldn’t be angry that he took it out; it could’ve been a police emergency. Yet seeing the way his eyes lit up at the message… It cracked her heart right in the middle. Because she knew exactly who had sent that text.

Sophia.

“I’m sorry, that was…that was Sophia. I was supposed to meet her for our date about…five minutes ago.” He chuckled at that, and she couldn’t help a small smile too, despite the nausea she was feeling. Classic Jake. Normally, his tardiness would annoy the hell out of her, but now it seemed almost…almost endearing. Besides, he was never _that_ late to really piss of someone.

And also, there was a part of her that couldn’t help thinking he’d actually stayed back, risking being late for his date, to talk to her. Because she looked sad and he was worried about her.

She immediately pushed away that thought—it was just who he was—and forced a smile at him. “Well, then I think you should better go before it’s _too late,”_ she said jokingly, even though she didn’t feel like laughing at all. He offered her a worried glance.

“But you…”

“I’ll be fine,” she rushed out before he could continue. “I’m fine. Seriously. Go…have fun with Sophia. On your date. Have fun with Sophia…on your date.” God, why did that hurt so much to _say?_

Jake still seemed a bit hesitant, even as he nodded. “Okay. I will. But just because Sophia might rip off my head if I am _too late._ But don’t you think I’m letting you go.” He grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. “You better spill the beans after I come back.” And with that…with that he’d turned around and left, sparing her only a short wave and smile, which she returned reluctantly. She felt like someone was gutting him by the time Jake disappeared behind the elevator doors.

She dropped her face over her crossed arms, cursing at herself. _You were never with him in the first place. How could you miss him now?_

Yet, as she’d found out recently… It was really easy to miss something even though you never had it.

* * *

**iii.**

Stakeouts with Jake had never been awkward before—at least not in the uncomfortable silences and forced out words way. Of course, every now and then Jake was bound to make an absurd joke that made you roll your eyes and laugh at the same time, not because it was funny but it was so ridiculously _not funny_ that you couldn’t help laughing. Other times he tended to bring weird ass street foods that he found from…somewhere…and tried to get Amy to eat them—even though he almost threw up a couple of times. But those weren’t awkward—at least, Amy wouldn’t call them _awkward._ It was…endearing. Funny. _Jake._ Any time he put himself in a weird situation or made a mess of something he was just Jake.

But this…this guy sitting next to him, gazing out the window with his cheek resting on his hand and no extraordinary street food in sight, was _not_ Jake.

Amy tore her eyes away from the apartment door they were watching and glanced at him. There was something wrong with him. Well, _duh._ She’d known that he wasn’t completely himself from the moment he entered the precinct that morning. The first thing that alerted her was the fact that he was actually on time, even a couple of minutes early. And the second thing was… Instead of letting everyone know that _Detective Jake Peralta_ had arrived with a loud good morning, he’d mumbled her a quiet one before he slipped his bag down to the floor and plopped down on his chair. She’d asked him if he was okay immediately, yet he’d dismissed her with an absentminded nod and “yes”…one that sounded much like the one she offered him a couple of weeks ago when she was feeling down about his new girlfriend. She had accepted his yes reluctantly, wanting to give him the space he’d offered her then, but…right now, that plan was proving to be harder than she expected.

“Jake?” she said finally when the silence became unbearable. He lifted his head and glanced at her from the corner of his eyes.

“Hm?”

Well, that was a pleasant answer.

“Are you… Are you sure you’re okay?” She cleared her throat to get rid of the discomfort in her voice. “Because you’ve been staring out that window for far too long to be normal. At least by your standards.” She arched her brow and challenged him to lie. God help him if he used the excuse of being tired again…

“I’m just…tired,” he mumbled, flashing her a very fake-looking grin. “You know what they say: When you get a partner, you say goodbye to sleep—“

“ _Jake.”_ She looked at him exasperatedly, listening his words trail off. “Nobody says that.” Actually, she was pretty sure she’d heard similar phrases here and there, but that wasn’t the point right now. “And _I know you,_ so you can’t fool me with a lie about being tired.”

His eyes narrowed at his own words being thrown back at him. She just smiled sweetly at him. Yet still he finally sighed a couple of seconds later, giving up on trying to pretend.

“It’s nothing.” He rushed out the next words when he saw her getting ready to argue. “I mean, it’s not important. It’s ridiculous. You don’t need to worry about it.” He turned outside again, returning to his initial position.

Amy felt her heart go out to him, even as she reached forward to put her hand on his shoulder. “I do. Worry about it, I mean.” Jake didn’t turn to her, yet she could almost see his lips tighten. “Jake… If it makes you sad, it’s _important_ , okay? It’s important to me.” Still, he didn’t say anything. And finally, _finally_ the question that had been milling around in her head for _days_ slipped out. “Is it about Sophia?”

_This time_ Jake almost immediately turned to her. “Ho-How did you know?”

“You weren’t being exactly subtle about it,” she argued…which wasn’t entirely true. She just tended to get a headache whenever Jake talked about Sophia, and she hadn’t had that for the last week. So that meant he must’ve stopped talking about her.

She tried not to read too much into that.

“What?” Jake straightened up with her claim. “I was being very subtle. I haven’t even mentioned Sophia’s name for, like, a week!”

“Exactly,” Amy said with a smug smile. “You used to talk about her almost daily before that.” _And driving me crazy in the process._ “And when you suddenly stopped even saying her name… I knew something was wrong. I’m a detective, you know. I’m taught to notice when something is off.” She might’ve continued teasing him about it, puffing her chest and laughing, if it wasn’t for his slumped shoulders. He dropped his head to the back of the seat, closing his eyes…and she immediately changed the direction of her words. “What happened between you two?”

For a couple of seconds, it seemed like Jake wasn’t going to answer. But then he finally straightened up and turned to her. “Nothing. Everything. I…I don’t know.” She arched her brow in confusion.

“Okay, that’s like the vaguest way you could’ve explained it.” He glared at her as if he thought she wasn’t helping _at all_. Still, he tried to explain it further.

“I just… We’ve been fighting a lot lately. You know, we decided that we did not want to talk about our jobs, because defense attorneys and cops _really_ don’t mix, and it was fine in the first couple of weeks, but now… It feels like I can’t be myself with her. I want to talk about my cases and my work but… It isn’t even about the fact that she might possibly use that information against me. I worry that…she won’t understand it. She won’t understand me arresting a guy with circumstantial evidence just to get him off the streets. She won’t understand my frustration over criminals going free because of attorneys like her. She won’t understand how hard it is to watch someone hurt people over and over again but not be able to arrest them because you don’t have enough evidence, and if he goes to trial defense attorneys like her would spin the story so much that he’ll probably go free and there’s nothing I can do about it!” He was breathing heavily by the time he stopped, running his fingers through his hair. She had a feeling that he would’ve continued if he wasn’t breathless.

And she would’ve said something…if she didn’t feel completely shocked. She’d thought… She’d thought Jake and Sophia were really happy together. They seemed happy, at least, but…not everything was as it seemed, she supposed.

She hated the way her heart skipped a beat at that thought.

“I want to talk about my job,” Jake continued before she could say anything. “I want to be able to talk about my job with my girlfriend. I want to tell her about my worries and achievements, I want to share my happiness and my frustration, I want to be _myself_ with her. I want to be able to be completely open, and… I’m scared I’ll never get that with Sophia. I’m scared it’ll never work and we’ll never get through it, and I…I don’t know what to do about that.” He stopped to take deep breaths and stared out the window. “Guess they were right when they said defense attorneys and cops don’t mix, right?”

_“Jake…”_ That was all Amy could say as she looked at him. But…what else she could say anyway? That it wasn’t true, and he could work it out with Sophia? That was what a good friend probably say, but…she couldn’t get the words out of her mouth. Not when she loved him, and there was a part of her—a part she was trying so hard to ignore—that liked the idea of Jake breaking up with Sophia. And besides, she did think that he was partly right. She couldn’t imagine herself dating a defense attorney.

…but, she assumed, cops and cops could mix, right? They could work. They would be familiar with crazy hours and dangerous missions, they would understand and listen to each other’s problems, they would be together at the precinct—

Aaand now she wasn’t talking about cops in general. But once the idea had seeped into her head…

What if she told him that she loved him? That she would understand him, she would listen to him, that she could be _the one_ for him? It was stupid, gosh, it was _so_ stupid, but she wanted to be the one for him. And if she voiced those words… Would she lose him and his friendship forever, or would it bloom into something more beautiful?

Yet before she could decide Jake straightened up, his eyes trained outside. “There’s our perp.” And then he was unlocking the doors and rushing out of the car before Amy could even open her mouth.

All she could do was follow him, biting back her words, hoping that her cheeks didn’t look as red as it felt. She’d almost told him—almost, even though she _shouldn’t_. She _couldn’t_. Not now, and maybe…not ever. Not when he was with Sophia. She just had to suck it up, be a good friend, and help him try to work it out with Sophia.

No matter how much it hurt.

* * *

**iv.**

Any hour after 10 p.m. was Amy’s alone time. If she didn’t have special plans, whenever the clock hit ten she changed into a sweater and sweatpants—shorts and tank top if it was summer—curled up under a blanket on the couch with an occasional cup of ice cream in her hand, watching whatever ridiculous TV show was on (which explained her expansive knowledge on all kinds of shows out there).

Things were no different today. She had her favorite blue blanket around her shoulders, some Ben&Jerry’s triple caramel chunk ice cream in her hand, and she was watching a rerun of “The Bachelor”—as ridiculous as the show was, if you thought about it as a comedy and not reality you could really laugh your ass off at it. She was just watching one of the girls rant about just how _little_ time she got with the guy when she heard a soft knock on the door. It was so quiet that at first she was unsure if it was even real. But when she muted the television and leaned forward…

Yep, that was definitely a knock. But…who would come to her house at 11:30 p.m.? On a Thursday, no less.

A little voice in her head reminded her she should be sleeping too, if she was thinking that, but she ignored it as she stood up and went to the door. She didn’t forget grabbing her gun from her drawer. You could never be too careful. She’d make the guy at her door feel sorry for messing with a cop—

_Jake?_

She came to a complete stop when she looked through the peephole and saw, instead of a stranger in a ski mask, a very, _very_ familiar face. The face of her colleague and her friend, the one and only Jake Peralta.

She put her gun immediately to the side before reaching for her door. She opened it without hesitation.

“Jake?” With her voice Jake snapped out of his stupor and looked up, and only then Amy realized this wasn’t just a normal visit or one of his jokes—she didn’t think he would have _tears_ in his eyes if that was the case. He… He must’ve come here because he needed someone. He needed a friend.

“Hey,” he said, trying to smile…yet it didn’t work. “I didn’t wake you up, did you? I just… I just needed someone with me, and I didn’t know who else to go to—“

“No,” Amy interjected before he could get far. She could feel her heart slamming against her ribs, partly because Jake chose _her_ to come to when she needed help, and partly because seeing him cry felt like someone was squeezing her chest. Not that she would’ve minded if he’d woken her—not when he looked _this_ horrible. “No, you can… You can come in.” She stepped back so that he could walk inside. She scrambled for the remote control, turning off the TV, and guided him onto the couch.

“Sorry for the mess,” she couldn’t help mumbling. “I was…”

“It’s okay.”

“I didn’t expect any visitors. I would’ve cleaned up if I’d known.”

“Amy—“

“Do you want some tea?” The words left Amy’s mouth without her intention, as if she needed to talk to ignore the fact that Jake was in her house in the middle of the night and _she wasn’t even wearing a bra._ God, she hoped that wasn’t visible under her sweater. “Or coffee? I could make you coffee right now—“

“ _Amy,”_ Jake insisted, holding her wrist probably to calm her down. But instead, her heart jumped in her chest as she stared at him. “I don’t need anything.”

She forced herself to put on a surprised face. “It seems like you do.” Jake glared at her with that, yet she didn’t back down. “You’ve been… You’ve been…” _Crying,_ she’d meant to say, but the word didn’t even leave her mouth. Jake seemed to understand what he was saying, though, because his shoulders slumped and he _finally_ caved in.

“Coffee is fine.”

And that was how they’d ended sitting on the couch, side by side, at 11:47 p.m., with two cups of coffee in their hands. They were sitting so close that one inch more, their knees would be brushing, yet Amy pushed that thought out of her mind as she focused on Jake. He needed help right now, and fixating on her feelings wouldn’t help him.

Instead of saying anything, she waited for him to start, giving him time to pull himself together. He opened his mouth after taking several sips from his coffee.

“Sophia and I broke up.”

Amy truly hoped that her gasp wasn’t audible. But…in her defense, she was caught off guard. Out of everything she thought he could say, _that_ wasn’t one of them. Sophia and he… They’d…

She pushed down the part that felt excited about that prospect and focused on her _friend_. “Jake, I’m so sorry.” She scooted forward to put a hand on his shoulder…and now their knees were definitely touching. “I…I don’t know what to say.” He shook his head with a humorless laugh.

“You don’t need to say anything. I should’ve seen it coming. We were fighting all the time, our jobs weren’t compatible, and I…I didn’t even feel comfortable around her anymore. But…”

“It still hurts?” Amy suggested, being in a similar situation herself when she broke up with Teddy. She didn’t love him or miss him, per se, but she missed the stability, the idea of a relationship, of having someone that you could rely on 100%. She knew she had that with Jake, as a friend at least, but it…it wasn’t the same.

Especially when you were in love with that friend.

She quickly dismissed that thought.

“No matter how bad the relationship was, how frustrated you felt about it, it hurts, right?” Jake nodded almost desperately. “You still miss it. Not what it was, but…what it had been like in the beginning, or what it should’ve been like.” She could see that his shoulders sagged with relief with her words. A small, genuine smile formed on his face, as if… As if all he needed was someone to _understand_ him. He nodded slightly, a tear finally sliding down his cheek. Amy didn’t know whether it was because he was relieved someone understood him, or sad about the breakup with Sophia, but she didn’t care. She reached forward without hesitation to pull him into a hug.

“It’s okay to feel sad,” she mumbled, rubbing his back to soothe his shaking. She wasn’t crying outright, in the sobbing kind of sense, but she knew just how shaken he must’ve been from the way he was trembling. “It’s okay to miss a relationship that maybe wasn’t good for you. As long as you can get past that. Because Jake… There’s someone out there who is perfect for you, who’ll love every single part of you, who will make you as happy and comfortable as you can be. And you’ll find that person if you open yourself up to it.” _Just as I love you,_ she couldn’t help thinking. _Every part of you._

She wanted to voice the words, now more than ever, just to remind him that he was loved. Yet as she pulled back and looked at his face, as she took him in, she realized that she couldn’t—not without messing everything up. He’d just gotten out of a relationship, and she knew he wasn’t the kind of guy that would jump into a new one in a matter of _hours._ It was one reason she fell for him in the first place, right?

He didn’t need her to be there for him as a possible romantic partner right now. He needed her as a friend.

So she asked, “Do you understand me?” instead of voicing those three words. He nodded with a smile.

“Yeah. Yeah, I… Thank you for that. For reminding me that.” His smile widened, and for a second she wondered if he was talking about her.

But he couldn’t, right?

“And thank you for not shutting the door on my face when I came. That was… That was really nice of you.” A laugh burst out of Amy’s mouth. _Of course_. Of course Jake would find a way to joke about even a situation like this.

“Never,” she said with a shake of her head. “Now, if you finished your coffee, I’m gonna prepare the couch for you.” Jake seemed surprised by her words.

“What?”

“You’re staying here tonight.” She made sure she sounded as confident as possible, so that he couldn’t argue. He blinked several times, watching her as she stood up.

“Amy, you don’t—“

“Bup, bup, bup, bup, bup,” she stopped him before she could say anything. “You’re staying here. It’s close to midnight, and I’m not letting you out onto the streets this late in the day. The streets are dangerous at night. I’m a detective, I should know.”

“Amy…”

“Jake…” She arched her brows and crossed her arms. And finally, _finally_ he caved in, lifting his hands in defeat.

“Fine, okay. I’m staying.” Amy’s smile was wide enough to show her teeth.

“Great! I’m gonna get you that blanket now.” She strolled to her bedroom without losing any time, not wanting to give him a chance to change his mind. Still, he called for her before she could exit the room.

“Oh, by the way, Amy?” She turned to him, to see that he had an amused grin on his face.

“Hm?”

“You might also want to wear a bra. You know. Just saying.” And that was all he said, before he lied down on the couch.

Amy’s cheeks were flaming still even when she finished preparing the couch for Jake and went to the bed herself, not even wanting to take off her newly worn bra.

* * *

**v.**

Jake plopped down right next to Amy on the picnic blanket just a couple of minutes after he left, two cups of ice cream in his hand—as promised. Amy felt her mouth water.

“Thanks,” she murmured as she grabbed it from him, and then turned her attention back to the person they were watching. Since you couldn’t exactly get a car in the middle of a park, they had to opt for an undercover mission, pretending to be a couple who just came to have a picnic.

The couple part, Amy was trying not to think too hard about, but other than that… She had to admit, it was really peaceful and relaxing here—the perfect day for a picnic.

She dug her spoon to the ice cream, until an idea popped into her head. She whirled around to look at Jake. “This isn’t one of your weird flavored street food ice creams, right?” she question…right as he was about to take a huge bite from his ice cream. He stared at her almost incredulously.

“What? No!” He threw the ice cream bite into his mouth as if he wanted to prove his point. “Why would I do tha—Oh, gosh, that’s cold.” He almost spat out the ice cream as he was suddenly hit by its coldness, and Amy… She couldn’t help laughing. Jake could be really stupid and ridiculous sometimes, but it was an endearing kind of stupid.

She suddenly wished she had her phone out so that she could film this. But instead, she handed him a bottle of warm water.

“That was really stupid.” Jake couldn’t answer as he gulped on the water. “You know that, right?”

“Hmmhmm.”

Amy giggled again, yet still she turned around to look at the perp, taking a tentative bite from her ice cream. And… Jake wasn’t lying. It was just plain vanilla ice cream.

“She isn’t doing anything,” Amy announced, narrowing her eyes to see the woman better. She was just busy leaning on a tree, looking at something on her phone (“Is she playing Candy Crush or something?” Jake had asked just a couple of moments ago, earning a punch on his side.), and occasionally scouting the area. To anyone else’s eyes but them, the woman, with her floral dress and flat shoes, wouldn’t have grabbed any attention—just another young adult hanging out in a part playing _Candy Crush._ But she—and Jake—knew better. The woman, as they suspected, had been smuggling drugs into New York for about two years now, making a fortune out of selling them. No, they didn’t even suspect that. They _knew_ it.

They just needed proof…hence, the undercover mission.

“Yeah, I can see that,” Jake agreed to her words, when he finally managed to get rid of the freezing feeling in his mouth. “Seriously, how long a damn Candy Crush level last?” She glared at him. “Fine, okay, she’s not playing Candy Crush, but you can’t tell me it’s not weird that she’d been on her phone for more than fifteen minutes now.”

Amy had to admit that that was true. “You think something is wrong?” she couldn’t help asking. Jake shrugged.

“I mean, maybe she thought ‘my boyfriend who plays guitar came to pick me up’ gig was getting old? ‘Cause I don’t think she knows we’re here.”

“She doesn’t,” Amy claimed, and to prove her point she leaned towards Jake and offered him a smile. “No one would suspect a couple who is having a picnic with ice cream…” She reached inside the picnic basket and pulled out the first thing that came to her hand. “And tuna—Ew, Jake, did you seriously bring _canned tuna_ to a _picnic?”_

“Is that canned tuna?” Jake grabbed the can from her to inspect it. “Oh, it is! I had no idea this was even in my fridge? Just how long has it been—Oh God, the expiry date is for two years ago.”

Amy felt the sudden urge to throw the _thing_ as far away from her as possible. Instead she just wrapped two tissues around it and put it to the side.

“Yeah, let me get that. Next time we do this, _I’m_ packing the picnic basket.” She didn’t even think the meaning of these words as she grabbed her ice cream again and continued to watch the woman. Jake, on the other hand… She could feel him grinning as he spoke.

“So you want to do this again?” he asked, and tugged on the sleeve of her shirt. She turned to him with confusion…until her words finally hit her in the mind. Oh God. Oh God no. “Having a picnic as boyfriend and girlfriend, eating vanilla ice cream and canned tuna—“

“No!” Damn, why did she sound like a shrieking teenager? “No, that’s not… Jake, you know that’s not what I meant. It was trying to say that…that…” _That I love you._ The words seeped into her mind without her intention. She didn’t mean to say them. She hadn’t even thought about it the whole day. But now, as she stared at him… She wanted to tell him. She did want to have another picnic date with him—this time for real. And she…she wanted him to know that.

She couldn’t help thinking just how perfect it would be. Even this fake undercover date felt more real than any other date she’d ever been on. She’d told him, a couple of weeks ago, that someday he’d find someone who is perfect for him, who would love every part of him with every fiber of her being. And she did love him—even the part of him that would bring two year old canned tuna to a picnic. She found many of his qualities, which others might find annoying, endearing. And not only that, while anyone else might be frustrated for doing all of his paperwork because he messed them up, she _loved_ doing that paperwork. _She_ was the one that was perfect for him. He must know that, right? He must know that he was perfect for him?

“Amy?” She slipped from her thoughts with his words. She could feel that heat had risen to her cheeks. No. _No,_ she couldn’t say any of that to him. She couldn’t tell him how much she loved him. What if he didn’t feel the same? What if he didn’t want her the same way? What if she’d built all of this up in her head? She couldn’t risk it.

“I meant that…when we have another undercover mission, I’m doing the preparations. Not you.” She turned to the woman again, and was glad to see that the guitar-player boyfriend had showed up, saving her from having to face Jake. She reached for the gun hidden under her sweater as she stood up. “Here’s our guy. Let’s go.”

She could feel Jake’s confused gaze on her back as they moved to arrest the guy and the woman. Yet still, he hadn’t opened up the subject again after that day, and she…she was all too happy about it.

* * *

**+i**

_I should’ve told him._ That was all Amy could think about as she stared at the fateful hospital doors a couple of feet away from her, waiting desperately for the blonde doctor that whisked Jake away from her to show up. He’d been bleeding—God, he’d been bleeding _so badly_ —despite the bandages the doctors wrapped around his waist, despite fainting even _before_ the ambulance arrived to the crime scene, despite Amy desperately pressing her jacket, which now looked more red than blue, over his bullet wound. _Bullet wound_ on his shoulder, because he’d forgotten to bring his bulletproof jacket, because he went after a criminal without precautions, because _she_ hadn’t been fast enough to shoot their target before _he_ shot Jake.

_I should’ve told him. I should’ve said something—anything._ She wrapped her arms around her waist in a desperate attempt to warm herself, replaying the moment he’d gotten shot over and over again in her mind. She’d already found about five ways to prevent what had happened, and it’d been…it’d been driving her crazy.

But what hurt even more was the fact that he’d already fainted by the time she gathered the courage to tell him she loved him. _I love you,_ she’d yelled, her voice echoing through the empty alley, yet Jake hadn’t even moved. _Jake, I love you. I love you. Stay with me. Please. Don’t leave me._

Yet this wasn’t a movie, and none of her words had been enough to bring him back. She was truly hoping the doctors would have a different result.

She felt her heart jump in her chest when she saw the door being pushed open, but… It wasn’t Jake’s doctor that showed up. She felt her shoulders slump. It had been getting harder and harder to push back her tears.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and turned around to find Charles standing behind her. The squad—including Captain Holt—had arrived at the hospital the moment they heard about what happened. It’d been six hours since then—well into 2 a.m. at this point—so some of them had left, but Charles and Gina had stayed, being the closest ones to Jake. And of course… _her._

“He’ll be okay, Amy,” Charles reminded him, a hopeful look on his face despite everything. “He’ll pull through.”

Amy wiped away a tear that finally managed to escape his eyes before looking at Charles. “How can you be so sure?” she couldn’t help asking, because she… She couldn’t help thinking about anything but _what ifs._ What if he didn’t make it through? What if he’d lost too much blood and the doctors couldn’t replace it? What if there had been some fatal damage to one of his organs? She didn’t know, she _couldn’t_ know, and it felt _horrible._

“Because…” She could almost see Charles thinking about a logical answer, something that would surely indicate Jake would wake up, but instead his shoulders slumped. “Because he can’t die. Not right now,” he whispered instead.

Amy could only nod, accepting the tissue Charles extended to her and wiping away a couple of stray tears. “I didn’t even tell him.” The words tumbled out of her mouth without her intention. “I didn’t tell him…how much I love him. I’ve had my chance. There were… There were so many moments I wanted to tell him, but I couldn’t. And now… Now he may never know. Charles, he may never know, and I…I…” Her voice trailed off as she felt overwhelmed with tears. She was almost glad that Charles didn’t say anything to that—he just pulled her close and let her rest her head on his shoulder. She didn’t even have it in her to feel bad that she wished it was Jake.

She only pulled back when she heard the door being pushed open, and— _Oh my God._ It was Jake’s doctor. _Jake’s_ doctor.

She scrambled to straighten up and rushed to the doctor’s side. “Is he…” She couldn’t even voice the word. If she did… It would make everything all the more real, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready for it to be real. If it was…

“He pulled through,” the doctor said, without getting into anything else. Relief washed through Amy like a warm shower. She held onto Charles to keep her knees from buckling and falling down. “The surgery was successful, and we’ve taken him to his room. He’s awake now.” He’s awake now.

_He’s awake now._

She repeated the words again and again in her head, waiting for them to dissipate, to just be a dream, but… But it wasn’t. It was real.

This time, the tears that were falling down her cheeks were purely of happiness.

“Can we see him?” It was Charles that had asked the question, because honestly, Amy didn’t think she could talk. She looked at the doctor hopefully. She wanted to see him. She needed to see Jake…to tell him that she loved him. Before anything went wrong, before something else happened, she needed him to know that.

“We will allow only one person for now. He’s still really tired, so we don’t want to overwhelm him all at once.” Amy felt her shoulders slump with that. Of course. _Of course._ She should’ve guessed that. She should’ve guessed it would be one person. And how could she go, when there were so many people waiting to see Jake? Granted, Gina was now sleeping on one of the chairs, but Charles… He was Jake’s best friend. She couldn’t just take his place.

“You should go, Amy,” Charles said before she could even open her mouth. She turned to him.

“Are you… Are you sure?” He must’ve surely wanted to see Jake. But he…he just smiled.

“There’s something you have to tell him. And do tell him that, or else I just gave up the opportunity to see my best friend for nothing. Okay?”

Amy could only nod fervently. Yes, she would tell him. Despite her pounding heart, despite her sweaty palms, she would talk to him.

She tried to convince herself of that all the way to Jake’s room, passing through hospital halls and numerous people passing by them. In any other case, she might’ve felt for the patients here, yet now her sole focus was Jake. Jake, and seeing him.

She took a deep breath before pushing open the door.

It was a normal hospital room, she assumed, with white walls and a bed with white blankets. She saw an IV drip hanging right next to the bed, as well as multiple tubes and wires going to and from a couple of machines and the bed. Well, okay, not _from the bed_ but…from the person lying on the bed.

If she didn’t know that he was Jake for sure, she might’ve doubted it. Jake never looked that pale; his cheeks always had that childish red tint that made it so hard to stay angry with him. He never lied down motionless like that either, or he never looked at her with hazy eyes, or his smile never seemed that small or forced, as if he was fighting through the exhaustion and pain to do that.

“Hey,” he whispered at her as she stepped into the room, desperately fighting her tears. _He’s okay,_ she reminded herself. _He will be okay._ “And here I was wondering who would first get the ‘visit Jake post-surgery’ card.”

A small laugh burst out of her with that. God, he always did manage to find a way to joke, right?

“Yeah, I thought it’d be appropriate, seeing as you bled out in my arms,” she joked. Because that was what they did, right? Making fun of serious situations? Being a police officer… That was kind of the only way to survive the shit that was thrown on you daily. And from the way Jake smiled… She knew he was feeling the same way.

She scooted closer to the bed as her eyes traveled on him once more. “You look horrible, by the way.” An amused glint twinkled in his eyes.

“Tell that to yourself, Miss I-have-blood-all-over-my-clothes.”

“Hey! I was trying to save you.”

“Yeah, you were. You were screaming at me to stay with you. And before you ask, yes, I’ve heard that.” Amy crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes at his grin.

“You have no respect whatsoever, Detective Peralta.” She shook her head disapprovingly, expecting him to retort with another joke, yet his face…his face turned serious. He reached forward—as much as the tube attached to the back of his hand allowed—to pull her hand into his. She could feel him trying to squeeze, as light as his touch was.

“I have,” he whispered, his eyes shining with genuineness for once. “Thank you.” And Amy knew, from the way he was looking at her…that this was time. If she didn’t tell him now…she’d never have the courage again.

“Don’t do that to me again,” she whispered, shaking her head.

“Amy…”

“Don’t, Jake. Don’t do anything so impulsive and…and get shot again. Don’t make me watch you… _dying…_ again.” Jake looked almost desperate as he looked at Amy—which wasn’t so surprising, considering he was in a hospital bed and Amy assumed everyone on a hospital bed would look desperate. But this was… This was a different kind of desperate.

“It’s my job, Amy,” she said, and the fact that he looked serious told her just how important this was. “I can’t just hold myself back and let someone get hurt.” _Of course._ Because that was who he was. Still, she felt something crack in her heart at the thought of losing him.

“I don’t want you to die,” she couldn’t help whispering. Jake smiled at her.

“I don’t want to die, either.” He tried to squeeze her hand again as much as possible. “I promise, Amy—“

“No, Jake, you don’t understand,” she interrupted him. He almost looked confused. She took a deep breath. _This is it._ “I don’t want you to die…because I love you. Like, _love you…_ love you.” She held her breath.

She’d said it.

She’d actually said it.

And Jake… His eyes widened slowly as his smile slipped off her face. She tried not to think too much about it, but…it couldn’t be a good sign, right? It couldn’t be—

Wait. _Wait._ Was that a grin…spreading on his face?

“You love me?” he asked hoarsely. She could only nod, as she didn’t trust her voice. His grin widened with that—despite the pain he must be in, he was still smiling at her. She felt like her heart might just beat right out of her chest.

She felt him tug at her hand. “Can you just lean down a bit? Because I want to kiss you right now, and I don’t think I can straighten up.”

It took her a second to completely process what she was saying. And then she was smiling too, feeling like she was soaring in the sky, even as she leaned forward to kiss him. _Our first kiss,_ she thought. Her past self might’ve wanted this to not happen on a hospital bed, but her present self… She didn’t care. She just wanted to be with him, no matter when or where. And… Well, they’d always been a unique couple, hadn’t they, even when they weren’t a couple?

She was smiling by the time she pulled back, yet she kept her hand on his shoulder. His eyes flickered open slowly, shining with happiness and joy, and she realized… It was real. This was… This was really happening. What she wished for for months, what she dreamt of but thought she could never have… It was really happening.

“I love you too,” Jake whispered, his thumb absentmindedly caressing the back of her hand. He tugged her close again, as much as she could, and this time she understood what he wanted before he even needed to say it. She rested her head on the spot right next to his head, closing her eyes, reveling in the feeling of being close to him, in the fact that he was alive and well.

And they were together. How could she forget that?

“If I’d known me getting shot would get you to tell me you loved me, I would’ve done it ages ago,” he murmured, brushing her hair with his cheek. She shot him a glare.

“Hush it. No getting shot talk from now on.” Honestly, if she thought about him bleeding in her arms again…

“No getting shot talk,” he agreed with a nod. Yet even then he was smiling. She found herself smiling too, despite everything that happened that day, despite being in a hospital, despite having blood all over her and being in an extremely uncomfortable position. She smiled, because Jake was alive, because they were together, because she loved him and he loved her, and…

What else could she really ask for?

(Except maybe getting out of the hospital and Jake healing, because there were so many things she wanted to do with him, and that could only happen once he was completely healed.)


End file.
